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Colleen set the vase on the breakfast bar, tenderly touching the petals of the newly opened buds. They were perfect. She leaned in to smell the heady aroma. She opened the envelope nestled within the roses and read:
I still remember.
Colleen closed her eyes and held the card close to her chest. The color yellow connected them to that day so long ago. Finn was letting her know that he remembered that night as much as she did. And judging by the swarm of butterflies in her belly, this casual dinner with Finn was turning into an actualdate. And that was more than okay with her.
Stepping off the elevator, Colleen took a deep breath as she made her way to Finn’s loft. Before she could knock, the door opened.
“Oh,” Finn said, surprised. “I was on my way to pick you up. I didn’t expect you to come here on your own.”
“Taking an elevator and a short walk down a hall isn’t a big trek.”
“It’s not, but I wanted to be a gentleman.” He gave her an enticing smile and held the door wide for her to enter. He was dressed in slim jeans that molded to his body and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing his strong forearms.
She had to peel her eyes away from him to say, “Something smells good.”
Finn closed the door behind her and led her to the kitchen. “I think you’ll like it. It’s easy. I didn’t want to spend too much time cooking. Chardonnay?” Finn asked, taking a bottle out of the fridge.
“That sounds great.” Colleen took a seat at the breakfast bar while Finn opened the bottle, poured her a glass, and got a beer for himself. “Thank you for the roses.”
“Do you like them?” he asked, handing her the wine.
“They’re beautiful.”
Finn’s gaze held hers. “You look lovely in yellow.”
Colleen nodded, her skin flushed in response to his compliment.
“Let’s go out on the terrace.”
Colleen stepped out onto a wood-decked terrace with a rattan beige sectional couch covered with colorful pillows. Planters of small shrubs and perennial flowers lined the edges of the deck. This was not like the usual condominium cramped deck she was used to back home. This deck was spacious and almost as large as the loft’s living room.
“It’s a warm evening, so we can either eat outside,” he said, lifting his chin to the intimate dining table, already set for dinner, off to the side, or, “we can stay inside. Whatever you want.” He’d already placed a platter of grapes and cheese on a small table near the couch. Votive candles flickering inside glass candle holders made an inviting setting.
The many lights from the nearby buildings surrounded them like an enormous outdoor candelabra. “It’s beautiful out here. The view is amazing.”
“Outside it is, then.” Finn pressed a few buttons on a wall panel and a relaxing jazz piano filled the terrace.
“I thought you only listened to the blues?”
“I make an exception now and then,” he said, walking toward her. Taking her hand, they sat on the couch together. Finn popped a grape into his mouth and got comfortable, his arm stretched behind her. “Okay, I haven’t talked to you in two weeks. It’s time to tell me what happened at the gallery. Did it get better after the first day?”
“Yeah, it did.” Colleen took a sip of chilled wine, pressing her lips together. “I made a few mistakes with invoices, I inadvertently talked an indecisive client out of making a purchase, so Kiki berated me in front of the client. But I did manage to get her Starbucks coffee order right.”
“That’s being positive. Do you still like it?” Finn asked, studying her.
“I hate it,” she said with a groan. “I quit today.”
He lifted his beer in a toast. “I’m proud of you.”
“I’m unemployed. That’s nothing to be proud of.” It had been her choice to quit and the reality of that decision was beginning to take root in her mind. She would have to find another job soon, or else she would run out of money.
“It takes courage to walk away.”
“I’ve never quit a job without having another one lined up.”
“I can find out what jobs are available at the foundation.”
Finn wasn’t making the offer to be nice, she believed he was sincere. “Thanks, but I doubt they’re searching for an art history teacher.”
